


8 Times + 1

by revolunacyfireboy



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolunacyfireboy/pseuds/revolunacyfireboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The eight times Kid tried to tell him how he felt (plus the one time Law did it first).</p>
            </blockquote>





	8 Times + 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for shipwrightkaku on tumblr.

**The First**  
The words are so slurred he's not even sure he said what he meant.  
The silence on the other end of the phone makes him sure he did.

Then... "Eustass, are you drunk?"

Kid tells himself it's the over-abundance of beer he's had making his mouth dry and not Law's words.  
"Yeah, bit."

Law sighs, deep and heavy, and Kid can just _see_ him rolling his eyes.  
"Please tell me you're not driving."

"You think I'm fucking stupid, Trafalgar?"

"Yes. Please don't make too much noise when you get home; I'm getting up early tomorrow."  
And then the line is dead.  
And his mouth is still dry so Kid drinks more.

The slurred confession is never mentioned, and that hurt almost as much as sleeping on the couch.

 **The Second**  
The kiss is more teeth and tongue than anything else.  
It's rare for Law to be this wound up, to be the one who initiates, and it excites him more than anything else in his life has (a bit of a lie, but hey, who cared).

It's during one of these kisses, somewhere between the front door and the couch, that Kid says it again.  
It's really less of words than the time he slurred them, more just a breath of air against Law's ear that makes the other man shiver slightly.

Law says nothing.

He doesn't repeat the words again, but he pretends that it's okay to not say it.

 **The Third**  
He gives up and asks for advice.  
Killer gives shitty advice, he discovers.

Really, he's never been the kind of guy to dress 'nice', or bring 'dates' chocolates and flowers.  
Law is the kind of guy who would laugh at him for it.

He gives in, again, and does it anyway.  
Law laughs at him.

Law seemed to think the whole thing was a joke until he was actually in the restaurant, looking about as uncomfortable as Kid felt.  
Actually, Kid probably looked fucking uncomfortable too.

It's an awkward affair, and they barely say anything to one another. Kid starts to speak a few times, fumbles his words, shuts his mouth fast enough to make his teeth click. Law twirls a wine glass between his fingers, shifting often enough to be more like fidgeting.

It's awkward, and the suit he's wearing feels stiff and stuffy, and there's sweat running down the back of his neck which is gross.

"Eustass, really, this isn't like you at all."

A sudden bought of applause distracted Law's attention, just as Kid opened his mouth, and he watched Law watch a group of people, two of them obviously just engaged.  
He laughed as they were congratulated by friends and brought wine by a waiter, leaning his chair back slightly.  
"Are you going to propose to me?"

The words he had been planning to say die a bitter death on his tongue.

Kid scowls at his soup. "Can't I just do something fucking nice once in awhile?"

There was a soft 'thunk' as Law let the front legs of his chair touch the floor again.  
"Yeah, sorry. I was only teasing you."

There was only regretful silence for the rest of the night.

 **The Fourth**  
It was a rare night when Law was the first to sleep.

He was often too busy to remember to go to bed before some ungodly hour, and on nights he remembered the sleep he got was broken and troubled.

He seemed peaceful tonight.  
Kid had listened to his breathing, counted out the space between each one, and was quite sure Law was sleeping now.  
It was almost a treat.

A treat because on the rare occasions such as this one, Kid could touch Law in ways he couldn't when the other was awake.  
Nothing perverse, just small simple gestures (like running his fingers through the short black hair, or tracing his fingertips idly across the tattoo on Law's back) he couldn't do any other time unless he wanted a strange look and probing questions.

These times, when things were quiet yet comfortable, he found the words he'd been trying to say on the tip of his tongue; where they more than not stayed.  
Not tonight though.

The words were quiet, but he said them all the same; not slurred, or whispered in a breath of air, or interrupted by someone else’s annoying happiness.  
It made his heart beat just a little faster.

Law shifted and Kid froze, holding his breath until the other man settled again, covers pulled tighter to his chest.

He’s not sure why he cared if Law was awake and heard him.

 **The Fifth**  
It was a Friday ritual.  
Whoever was home first was responsible for dinner.  
Not so much part of the ritual were the impromptu dance parties that happened.

Kid never took part in them.  
He was more than content to watch Law, even if it meant putting up with music he hated that was much too loud.

It was nice, albeit dorky, to see Law cutting loose from his normal uptight personality and acting like, well, a person.

The words had left his mouth before he registered his own mouth moving, and a cold feeling settled in his stomach when Law turned the music down.  
“What did you say, Eustass?”

The cold feeling went away, to be replaced by his cheeks feeling warm.  
Kid needed to have a serious talk with his emotions.

“I said ‘nice moves, Trafalgar’.”

Law flipped him off.

 **The Sixth**  
There was a literal sea of paper on the bedroom floor.  
Okay, not quite a literal ‘sea’ but it was close enough.

Kid could no longer count how many times he’d started the letter, become displeased with it in the first sentence, and crumpled it up.  
Too many.  
A lucky few had survived past the first sentence, even soldiering on to a healthy half a page before they were struck down in the prime of their life and discarded on the floor like trash.

Words were simply not his forte.

“Fuck this.”

See?

Kid gathered all the stray pieces of paper and threw them away; and after a moments deliberation tied up the now overflowing bag. He was not going to let Trafalgar see a single one of these.

Law eyed him curiously as he passed, but said nothing. Good. Better that way, in Kid’s opinion.

There was a new clear trash bag in the small bedroom bin when he came back.  
And one, carefully un-crumpled and clearly written on piece of paper sitting in it.

If Law had read it, he never said a thing; something Kid wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse.

 **The Seventh**  
He looked like shit.  
Law honestly looked like hell had warmed over and it struck a chord deep in Kid.

For all he was a little shit and tried to avoid conflict whenever possible, Law wasn’t weak.  
He looked weak.  
It was sickening.

Law had refused to talk to anyone about what had happened to him; and Kid knew from the look in his eyes that it wasn’t because he was ‘ashamed’ or ‘embarrassed’ or some other five dollar word that meant the same fucking thing.  
Law had something planned.

Deep down, Trafalgar was cold and cruel, ugly and without mercy; that darker side had been the very thing to originally draw Kid’s attention, and respect.

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m not.” Kid stopped bouncing his leg. “I just want these fucking assholes to let you go home already.”

“It’s their job-” “I know, I know!”

Silence fell between them, and not the good kind.

Kid didn’t know his hands were shaking until Law took them in his own.  
“Are you scared, Eustass?”

He was.  
Kid was really fucking scared, and it only served to terrify him further.  
This man, this _annoying_ , _stupid_ , _foul mannered man_ , had _wormed_ his way into Kid’s life and made a comfy little nest (like some fucking _parasite_ or something) and now, _now_ , Kid couldn’t imagine life without him anymore than he could imagine living without Killer, or his own red hair.  
It wouldn’t be catastrophic, and ruin him or anything cliché like that but...

But it would leave a hole.  
A hole that he would try to cover with ply board and spackle and try to paint over with the right color, and no one else would notice but _he_ would.  
The slight level difference between the wall and ply board would always catch his eye, the painted over color would never _quite_ match the original and...

And he wanted to tell all these things to Law.  
He didn’t.

 **The Eighth**  
“I love you.”

Law looked up from his book, not startled or amused or in disbelief.  
Just looked up.

Kid shifted from one foot to another, keys rattling in his hand as he played with them; he felt more awkward than even the time he took Law out to a fancy dinner to try and confess this very thing.

Law opened his mouth to say something but suddenly he didn’t want to hear the response and left, door slamming behind him as he shut it way harder than he meant to.

He was a coward.  
A big fucking coward, running away with his tail between his legs.  
Hadn’t that been what he’d been trying to do for months now? Hadn’t he _finally_ said the words that he _knew_ Law already knew, but wanted to say for his own sake?

Kid sighed, and shook his head in reminder that beating himself up wasn’t going to change what had already happened.  
He’d go home, apologize, and man the fuck up and say the words again and _this_ time he wouldn’t bolt like a skittish cat when Trafalgar responded, no matter what the response might be.

 **Plus One**  
Not all of him made it home.

The doctors had given him a laundry list of things when they finally let him go home; things he couldn’t do without assistance anymore, things he could still do but would be awkward at first, a list of physical therapists, a list of psychologists...  
It was too much shit.  
He didn’t need any kind of therapist; he didn’t _want_ them. His life was different now, yeah, big _fucking_ deal!  
Kid could manage on his own.

Law made him appointments all the same.

He didn’t go to any of them; for the first week.  
The sullen Law ignoring him and sleeping on the couch finally convinced him.

Still didn’t make getting shirts on any fucking easier.

“Fuck!”  
And another morning started with another shirt being flung across the room; there was a muffled ‘thump’ as it hit something followed by several things clattering to the floor.  
Kid groaned.

“Eustass, you know you shouldn’t get fed up. It only makes it harder.”

Kid glared at Law, bent over and cleaning up the mess he had just made. “Fuck _off_ , Trafalgar. I can clean up after myself. I don’t want your goddamned pity!”

“Pity?”  
Law looked hurt; hurt _and_ angry.  
“You think I fucking pity you?”  
He balled up the shirt in his hands and lobbed it at Kid’s head; Kid let him.

“If I fucking pitied you, I wouldn’t be here right now! I’d be calling you every five seconds, to make sure you were going to your appointments, to make sure you were eating, to make sure you were doing something other than laying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself!”

When he was angry, truly angry, Law looked taller than six feet.

“If I pitied you, I’d be your stupid fucking mother hen, not your boyfriend!”

The words hurt more than the phantom feelings in his non-existent arm.  
Law sighed, heavy, and the angry in his look crumpled away into just hurt; his emotions were so raw right now, so exposed.  
Kid had never seen this side of him before.

“There’s no room for ‘pity’ in my feelings for you, Kid.”

It was the first time Law hadn’t called him ‘Eustass’.

“I’m honestly as bad at this kind of thing as you but...”

Law sat beside him; didn’t kneel in front of him, didn’t take his hand, didn’t do any of that cliché romantic bull.  
Just sat.

“I love you.”

Kid reached out, started to grab Law’s hand but settled it on his knee instead; squeezed it lightly.

“I love you too, Law.”


End file.
